


The Importance of Knowing Languages

by CaptainOfTheKryptonSpacemarines



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Foreign Language, Français | French, French Characters, Hermione Granger speaks French, Languages, Lesbianism, Lesbians, Mostly in English, Multilingual Character, Romance, This has French dialogues, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-09-14 14:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16914975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainOfTheKryptonSpacemarines/pseuds/CaptainOfTheKryptonSpacemarines
Summary: When Fleur asked for the bouillabaisse, she wasn't expecting an answer in French from a beautiful English girl with unruly hair.Abridged Summary: Fleurmione through the 4th year but nobody knows what's going on because Fleur and Hermione speak to each other in French most of the time





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [I_Am_Many](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Many/gifts), [bloodylullabies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodylullabies/gifts).



> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
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> This is gonna be a blast! Don't worry if you don't know what they're saying, you won't miss vital information to the story.
> 
> The greatest of praises, thanks and love to I_Am_Many who was so kind and helped me with the French dialogues, making them far better than what my intermediate knowledge of the language would've allowed and to bloodylullabies for giving further insights into how to improve the dialogues in French and doing French spell checking, accents and everything.

“May I take _ze_ bouillabaisse?”

One of the French girls had walked up to them and Ron was fascinated, that much was obvious in his face. Harry did saw why as he looked closely at the beautiful blonde, who had this air to her that made it feel like she herself was magical somehow instead of a wielder of it.

“ _Bien sûr mademoiselle_ ” Hermione responded in French as she gestured for the dish and in the French girl’s face a smile appeared in an instant, all the while Harry looked puzzled at Hermione given his friend had never mentioned taking classes of that language or speaking it whatsoever.

“ _Vous parlez français?_ ” Harry knew next to nothing of French but he figured out the Beaubaxtons student had asked Hermione if she could speak French, knowing at least the word ‘Français’ from all the movies he’d watched; what stood out more to him was the way she had asked, more surprise than actual question and how pleasantly surprised the French Witch looked at Hermione.

“ _Une petite peu, je ne le parle pas beaucoup_ ” Hermione paused and gesticulated with her hands as she spoke, seemingly picking her words “ _Je… ne l’ai personne pour… avec qui le pratiquer, mais je comprends_ ” Hermione giggled nervously as she went on “ _J’espère vous me le comprendre_ ” Hermione seemed to have answered like she had been stuttering her way through it but Harry didn’t really knew given he was blank as to what his friend had actually said but it must have been something the other girl found incredible because the Beaubaxtons student smiled fondly and offered her hand to Hermione.

“ _Vous avez un plutôt bon accent! Je m’appelle Fleur, enchantée_ ” Hermione smiled and shook the offered hand.

“ _Moi aussi. Mon nom est Hermione_ ” Hermione spoke again and Harry had never seen Hermione smile like she was smiling at the French Witch. It was indescribable in its shape but the nature of it struck Harry as that one gives to someone they’re nervous but excited to meet.

Harry figured out they had just introduced each other by the handshaking; Enchantey seemed nice and looked quite dashing in her blue uniform but it struck him quite odd that the handshake lasted for far longer than it had to.

“Oi, what’s going on?” Ron barged in, speaking around a mouthful of food, and Fleur’s eyebrows shot up into her hair while her face twisted in disgust.

“ _Il ne peut pas s’empêcher de se mêler de ce qui ne le regarde pas?_ ” Enchantey asked something and Hermione shook her head from side to side while Fleur stared at Ron as if he was some disgusting creature from a nightmare that made her want to vomit rather than be scared.

“This is Fleur-” Hermione signaled at Fleur with a smooth hand gesture, making Harry feel a little silly as he changed the mental tag of her face from Enchantey to Fleur and noted that Hermione was a bit more relaxed but still seemed to be picking her words as she switched back to French “ _Fleur, voilà mes amis: Harry and Ron_ ”

Harry waved as he heard his name while Ron’s face twisted in confusion as he heard his own.

“Making new friends?” Ron asked between mouthfuls and the glare of disgust Fleur shot him made Harry giggle as Ron seemed oblivious to the woman’s barely contained disgust.

“ _Il y a mieux en terme “d’ami”, ‘Ermione_ ” Fleur said something dryly while looking at Ron with that twisted expression in her face and Hermione nodded in agreement; the exact thing the elegantly dressed witch had said was a mystery that made Harry start to feel left out of the conversation a bit, but then something clicked in Fleur’s mind and with an astonished face she spoke up once more.

“ _Est-ce lui Le Survivant?_ ” Fleur pointed at him while looking at his forehead and Hermione nodded. The Beaubaxtons witch seemed intrigued but let down in some manner, as if she was looking at something for the first time after hearing so much about it. Harry guessed that something was himself and he felt a bit dumbstruck that his fame had reached France.

“ _Oui. Mais ici il est juste Harry._ _Je dois admettre : je le suis surprise vous ne appelez pas Harry “le garçon qui vit_ ” Hermione added something, the words ‘yes’, ‘Harry’ and ‘boy’ the only thing Harry could recognize. He hoped that it was that he wasn’t what Rita Skeeter painted him to be in her trash journalism.

“' _Le garçon qui a survécu' tu veux dire?_ ” Fleur retorted to whatever Hermione had said and the answer must’ve been something more than just simple talk given Hermione paled and her eyes went wide “ _Ce n’est pas grave Hermione, le français est une langue compliquée_ ” Fleur waved as she smiled and whatever it had been, it seemed to have made Hermione a bit less rigid after whatever the first part of Fleur’s answer had been“ _Mais_ _tu dois bien admettre que c’est un surnom bien trop long._ _« Le Survivant » est beaucoup plus simple_ ”

Some other Beaubaxton girls called out for Fleur, the word ‘Fleur’ standing out clearly now that Harry knew what to look for. The French girl gave Hermione an apologetic smile, waved goodbye at Harry and ignored Ron completely.

 “ _Je dois y aller”_ Fleur grabbed the dish she’d asked for and gave Hermione a gentle smile while biting down on her lower lip “ _A très bientôt!”_

Hermione waved as Fleur walked away elegantly but quick and Ron looked even more puzzled than before.

“What was that about?” He asked with food overflowing from his mouth and Hermione seemed to have been dragged down from a particularly happy mood and dryly answered.

“Just small talk. Nothing you need to worry about”


	2. Before The Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Golden Trio goes to the ceremony, a face Hermione has become very well acquainted with appears.

The excitement in the air was palpable and everyone rushed to get to the Champion ceremony early enough to get a good seat. Harry wondered who would the cup choose to represent Hogwarts but he wasn’t as excited as Ron, who kept talking about who would make a great champion, only for Hermione to keep telling them that while the tournament brought glory if you won it, there was also the high chance of dying and was more than vocal that she would not risk getting injured like the people in the last edition of the tournament and would absolutely avoid being present at the tasks, which made Harry wonder why she’d come along to the ceremony.

“ _’Ermione!_ ” Fleur’s voice called out his friend from the end of the large corridor they were in and he couldn’t help but giggle as Hermione’s smile appeared and started to become bigger and bigger the closer Fleur got to where they were. Hermione picked up the pace and they met half way and Harry blinked twice as he saw the odd thing that was that Fleur kissed Hermione’s cheeks thrice, alternating sides.

“What’s the kissing for?” Ron asked around the bite of apple he had just taken as they had been going up the stairs that led to this corridor “Are they girlfriends now or something?”

“It’s the way people say ‘Hi’ to friends in France” Hermione said over her shoulder with a smile on her face as the thought occurred to her “If both of you were French, you’d kiss Harry’s cheeks”

Ron paled and Harry’s eyes shot wide open at the thought of that, which made both women giggle and Ron took an anxious bite out of his apple, biting off more than he could chew, which in turn made him gag.

“ _Il passe son temps à manger ou c’est moi?_ ” Fleur asked something as she gave Harry a courteous bow and Hermione nodded in affirmation as she tried and failed to hold down her smile, quite conscious of her front teeth.

“ _Le fait qu’il n’est pas encore le hamster dévoile vraiment qu’il est un sorcier!_ ” Hermione spoke up, her French seeming much better as far as Harry could hear. In the time the Beauxbatons students had been here, he had heard enough French to know that Hermione’s pronunciation had gotten more fluid and had begun to acquire some of the aloofness of it. He still couldn’t speak anything other than ‘ _Bonnejor_ ’ but had gotten the chance to hear enough of it to notice that kind of thing.

“ _En effet_ -” Fleur answered gently, looking down at Hermione with a tender smile as her blue eyes scanned the English girl slowly and then said something as she ran her hand through Hermione’s unruly hair “ _Tu as fait quelque chose de spécial à tes cheveux ? Ils ont un particulier… je-ne-sais-quoi aujourd’hui._ ”

“ _Je le prendrais comme un compliment, surtout de toi._ ” Hermione blushed and whatever Fleur had asked, Harry figured must have been some girly joke or something of the likes because Hermione’s ear-to-ear smile acquired a more relaxed tone.

“ _Ah bon?_ ” Fleur asked something while Harry and Ron stood there wondering if they were both third wheels or if they were third and fourth wheels “ _Tu dois pourtant souvent recevoir ce genre de compliment de la part de tous les garçons, et sans doute de certaines filles._ ”

“ _Tu me confonds avec toi, Fleur_ ” Hermione chuckled and said something as her blush grew in intensity “ _Je suis le cerveau de ce Trio des rêves, pas la beauté_ ”

“ _Tu dis cela comme si la beauté et l’intelligence s’opposaient-”_ Fleur’s smile grew as she moved her hand from Hermione’s hair to her brow and ran it downwards around the silhouette of her face, resting it on her cheek for a moment before taking her hand away as if she had been electrocuted _“Tu devrais savoir que c’est faux après tout notre temps passé ensemble.”_

“ _Oui, c’est vrai-_ ” Hermione added, and Harry found it quite odd that it seemed like Hermione needed a moment to recover from Fleur’s touch “ _Je le sais pour toi mais seulement toi. Je ne pense pas autant pour les autres belles filles._ ”

“ _Voyez qui complimente qui, à présent.“_ _Fleur_ spoke as her eyes shined with an energy Harry couldn't name but that was brought out by Hermione, who froze where she stood as the French student spoke  _“Je n’aurais jamais cru que tu me considères comme étant une 'belle fille'.  Je devrais peut-être retirer mon nom de la Coupe, vu que le bonheur de recevoir ce compliment est au moins aussi grand voire même plus que celui de recevoir le Trophée._ ”

Hermione face was shocked and horrified for a moment before she became flustered and she looked around nervously as she grew redder when Fleur shined speaking and had a little wicked smile on her face. Harry started to consider asking for French lessons from one of Fleur’s compatriots just to know what the hell went on whenever they spoke. It was maddening to a degree, to be left out of the conversation but still be present and knowing something was said, the exact details of what was being said hidden behind this barrier called language.

“Are you mocking her, froggy?” Ron spoke up, quite irate and Harry wondered how he knew that particular insult the English Muggles had for the French.

“ _P-Pardon?!_  ” Fleur looked at Ron like Petunia used to look at him when he would ask to eat the leftovers, every bit of disgust and the feeling that Harry could only describe as ‘How dare you talk to me like that? As a matter of fact, how dare you talk to me at all?’ in Fleur’s face.

“Ron-” Hermione called out, a hint of a warning in her voice “For once in your life listen to me when I tell you to just eat your apple in silence”

“Hey-” the ginger protested as he gave his apple the final bite “I’ve got a right to know what’s going on! This is my school and she’s making you all red and uncomfortable. You keep dancing on your shoes and she just ran her hand through your hair. We both know nothing good can be said of your hair”

“ _Qu’est-ce que t’as osé dire, petit con?_ ” Fleur went for her wand and Hermione reached out and stopped the French Witch from drawing it, a pleading look and the fact that whatever Fleur had said had sounded as rough as something could in a language as gentle as French all Harry needed to know to come to the conclusion Fleur was not happy with Ron’s comment.

“ _Fleur, tu viens?”_ A girl’s voice called out in French for Fleur and suddenly a giant Beauxbatons student had joined them out of nowhere _“La cérémonie va commencer._ ”

The girl had to be easily 1.90 m (6’2 ft) which made the fact Harry had not noticed her before even more incredible, as if he could somehow miss that much red hair on someone who wasn’t a Weasley. The blue of the Beauxbatons uniform contrasted harshly against her shinny, coppery hair that went all the way down to her lower back in a perfect braid without a hair misplaced. Harry had been so caught up on the hair and the height of the girl that he almost missed the ocean blue shades on her nose, the round glass almost perfectly hiding …orange eyes?

“ _Pourquoi allais-tu sortir ta baguette?_ ” The girl asked something, choosing her words carefully, as if not knowing what else to say and suddenly becoming aware of the tension that had just been in the air.

“ _Rien d’importance, Miss_ _-”_ Hermione said what Harry knew was the cue for this woman to introduce herself and Harry paid close attention to what would follow.

“ _D'allemagné_ -” She gave a curtsy bow as she gently tugged her skirt upwards, ever the proper refined lady that any Beauxbatons female student was “ _Erica D'allemagné. Enchantée_ ”

Harry took pride in knowing better this time and getting the girl’s name from the start and offered his hand, her hand flying out and catching it in a strong grip that almost made him wince.

“ _Viens, Fleur_ -” Erica spoke up as she grabbed the hand Fleur had used to reach for her hand, the word ‘Fleur’ all Harry understood as he noticed the taller French Witch started to drag Fleur away from them “ _On va rater la cérémonie._ ”

“ _Sérieusement, ‘Ermione-_ ” Fleur called out as she tried to fight being dragged away “ _Comment tu fais pour le supporter?_ ”

“ _Ce n’est pas grave-_ ” Hermione answered to whatever Fleur had asked with a low, sad-sounding voice “ _Il a de raison.”_

“ _Bien sûr que non, bordel!_ ” Fleur shouted something and the fact that Fleur had glared daggers at Ron, that both Erica and Hermione had looked astonished to hear whatever that had come out of Fleur’s mouth, and that whatever had come out of Fleur’s mouth had sounded like a death threat to the ginger Weasley was all Harry needed to know.

“Mate-” Harry looked at Ron with pity in his eyes “You just made a big mistake”


	3. Four Champions, Two Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the shock of Hogwarts double champion, Fleur and Hermione chat

Hermione was so stunned by what happened that first chance she got she sat down and just stared at the wall in front of her in some random corner of the castle that was lonely enough that she could just sit there in the moonlit room and just process the fact that Harry had somehow gotten past the spells meant to keep those underage from trying to be champions for the tournament as well as had rigged it to spill out two champions from Hogwarts.

She wasn’t jealous, on the contrary, she couldn’t care less about the stupid tournament; but the fact still remained that Harry had done the impossible, effectively outsmarting her and becoming the fourth runner in a three man race.

A chill ran up her spine as she realized that this was indeed a three man race, but with a fourth female runner, a fourth female runner that made her shiver even though she wasn’t exactly cold. A fourth champion that, in her short time here, had connected with her in ways Hermione had never been able to when it came to…well, anyone.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, Hermione had tried but the more she tried the more she got lost in memories of the beautiful hair, beautiful eyes and beautiful voice that belonged to Fleur. Her friend’s image was engraved in her eyelids whenever she didn’t have the Frenchwoman in front of her and the reason why eluded Hermione and drove her insane.

 At first she thought she was feeling some form of jealousy at the attention Fleur was getting from every single boy in the three schools gathered for the tournament, but she had never coveted such things and why would she start now?

Then she thought maybe it was the perfect teeth that Fleur effortlessly showed every time she smiled, the two frontal ones such perfect pieces of pearly white that they seemed mirror-like instead of the bone they’re supposed to be.

Hermione hated to admit it, but if she had a weak point it was her teeth and her hair, which she also thought could’ve been a source of the seeming fixation she had for the Frenchwoman; but the more time she spent with Fleur, the less Hermione felt her teeth of hair were something that needed fixing.

Fleur praised them constantly and never had tried to give some advice on regards to how to tame the mane she had for hair and instead, the Beauxbatons student ran her delicate hands through it like it was something more beautiful than her own blonde curls of silky gold that followed effortlessly from her head like water that smelled of a flower Hermione would never have the courage to ask the name of.

And Hermione knew it couldn’t be because Fleur was just beauty and no brains. The woman was witty and had a more refined sense of humor than Harry, but still just as wicked, and her classmates had nothing but admiration for the top student of their school. Fleur had helped with classes since the start of the school year and she had this uncanny ability to simplify the hardest of things so that Hermione could just have a go at them after a quick explanation, turning what seemed like new challenges into little hitches in a road to a greater skill and understanding of magic.

She’d never be jealous of a more capable individual, especially when she was so kind and simply lovely; so why was Fleur in her mind all the time? Even now as she processed the fact there were four champions and that the extra one simply should not have been.

A grim thought ran through her, leaving her breathless but never in her life would she entertain the thought of Harry dying. Never. Not even for one second would she ever consider that Harry would die, in this tournament or otherwise until they were old and more wrinkles than person.

She chuckled at the childish idea but it was a sentiment she held close and it was then that the thought resurfaced, but instead of a dead Harry it took the shape of a dead Fleur. A dead Fleur being buried in her blue uniform, blue eyes eternally closed and laid to rest in some French field away from everyone with a white slab that would never truly honor the person she was in life and Hermione almost screamed at the thought.

Ragged breathing started to sound in the air and Hermione’s eyes shut closed as she tried and failed to get that horrid thing out of her mind but failed and failed again, each time a scenario of dread coming to shaped and leaving Hermione’s mouth with an acid taste and her stomach lurching.

She couldn’t, she wouldn’t. Fleur simply could not die in the tournament, just as Harry couldn’t, even harder than Harry because she was older and more experienced and smarter and simply she couldn’t do that to her.

Hermione shook her head and tried to understand why in the world would Fleur dying be such a personal thing in the short time they’ve known each other. They’d grown close but Hermione would never call Fleur her closest friend, even if that list only had two people in it and maybe she ached to have female friends as close to her as she was with Ron and Harry but Fleur hadn’t been in Hogwarts long enough for such a thing yet here she was panicking over her possible death.

_Maybe it was that she was risking losing both friends in this year, all of the sudden?_

The thought came to her and it made so much sense it was as if Fleur had walked into the room and shone light with her smile and hair, making the world a shinier place with her simple existence and her mind again brought Fleur into Hermione’s ponderings. Hermione shook her head and admitted that was the most likely explanation: She risked losing two friends, two great people from her life and that was maybe what this was all about. But it couldn’t because that still didn’t explain why Fleur had been such a constant presence in her mind before the ceremony.

Hermione huffed and ran a cold hand over her brow as she went over the list again, because such was her mind’s obsession with Fleur that Hermione had made a list of the possible reasons she always thought of the French Witch and repeatedly went over it trying to pinpoint the reason Fleur was such a presence in her mind, but as always she failed to found it. No matter how many times she went over it, Hermione always failed to come up with an answer and maybe that was the reason to begin with: Hermione had never been able to resist a good mystery and this mystery simply did not seem to have a solution, no matter how much she analyzed it.

“ _So-_ ” A voice broke the silence and Hermione registered the sweetness of it before she noticed the smile spreading in her face, the sweet French of it a delight to hear “ _Either Gryffindor cheated its way into the tournament or the cup knows this Hufflepuff student to be from such an unworthy House of the rather prestigious Hogwarts, that it chose another champion right away to give you a better chance to win. Who would’ve thought, either way?_ ”

Hermione brought her eyes to where the voice came from and saw Fleur in all her blue-clad glory striding towards her leisurely “ _Not that it’ll make a difference. The tournament was decided the moment my name was released by the cup_ ”

Fleur spoke with such a confidence that Hermione couldn’t help it and smiled fondly at the assertiveness of her friend and simply answered in French “ _Shouldn’t you be celebrating your victory with your friends then?_ ”

“ _It’d be rude to do such thing_ -” Fleur answered shortly as she walked the final steps until she stood right in front of Hermione and the sweet, gentle smiled became a fondly one that wasn’t as wide but still was there “ _And when would I, a Beauxbatons, would dare to such a thing as to be rude?_ ”

“ _Some would say you weren’t exactly your charming self right before the ceremony-_ ” Hermione noted as a grin spread across her face at the memory of Fleur glaring daggers at Ron for the comment on her hair “ _Not that I mind personally. Must be boring to behave all the time_ ”

“ _Oh my-_ ” Fleur said in a tone that gave away her mockery yet still tried to sound scandalized “ _Hermione Granger of the Golden Trio, being naughty? Call that Skeeter woman right away!_ ”

“ _I’ll send the owl myself later-_ ” Hermione had something else to add to her response but it died on her tongue as Fleur tumbled and tried to sit down elegantly in front of Hermione, doing her best not to wrinkle her coat and managed to look just as breath-taking as she did such a simple thing as sitting in front of Hermione with a gentle smile on her face and eyes that pondered what was Hermione looking at with such rapture.

“ _Hermione?-_ ” Fleur raised a delicate eyebrow and teased with a shit-eating grin on her face “ _I know I’m beautiful. Can we please move on to the part where you ask me to the Yule Ball?_ ”

Hermione’s jaw went slack and it took her a moment to process what Fleur had said before a laugh that was most likely heard across the English Channel came out of her, followed by another and another until she ran out of breath and kept laughing still, her ribs hurting and her body twitching on the floor while Fleur simply laughed, ever elegantly, and simply seemed to bounce lightly where she sat but behind the kept composure, Fleur was laughing just as strongly with the English girl.

Hermione laughed until it hurt and then some more and it must’ve take her a good five minutes to get a hold of herself but Fleur just sat there with a big, beautiful smile that displayed all her teeth and the sweet gentle of her giggles started to become clearer and clearer as Hermione sat back up straight and winced at the pain in her whole body, yet she noticed, feeling lighter than ever as well.

“ _Please by all means_ -” Hermione spoke between giggles “ _Rita Skeeter would jump at the opportunity to scandalize two countries in one sitting_ ”

“ _Yes. I can already see the headline-_ ” Fleur raised her arms and brought her hands in front of her to then separated them slowly as she read the first funny news title that popped into her mind “ _Starcrossed lovers: Hogwarts and Beauxbatons hand in hand after their two champions cheat their way in and still fail against to outdo the French Champion._ ”

“ _Not to mention we’re both women-_ ” Hermione absentmindedly added and Fleur looked at her puzzled, as if she couldn’t understand why that would be of notice.

“ _Why?_ ” Fleur had to ask, because it escaped her that Hermione would find that detail important at all yet Hermione had said it seriously enough that Fleur knew she meant that point as part of the scandal.

Hermione’s jaw went slack again and she had never considered that it wasn’t that much of an issue here as it would’ve been back home, and barely was able to bring herself to say in the shyest way possible.

“ _Muggles_ ” Hermione shook her head, trying to get her mind out of the sleepiness that had let such a thing slip by her “ _In the Muggle world that would be a scandal: Two women being the dates of each other_ ”

“ _Well, here too, I believe-_ ”Fleur added, seeing the reason now more clearly and decided to illustrate her friend on a difference between countries “ _It seems the English can be quite conservative, magical or not. In France it is so common that the doors of the last years at Beauxbatons are enchanted so that girls don’t sneak out to kiss their girlfriends in the midnight moon and boys don’t go out with their boyfriends on improvised candle-lit dinners_ ”

“ _Well_ -” Hermione stuttered as she caught herself getting lost on Fleur’s blue eyes, the bewitching sapphires under the moonlight shinning and hypnotizing Hermione “ _Who would’ve thought that the French would hate romance that much_ ”

“ _It’s not romance what my school wants to avoid_ -” Fleur smiled with a grin that seemed to be an impossible combination of evil, teasing and good-natured playfulness “ _But rather the little death and the howls it would produce in the middle of the night_ ”

“The little death?” Hermione asked, squinting her eyes as she tried to figure out if there was a misinterpretation or something she’d misheard in Fleur’s French that could’ve guided her to a misunderstanding and her suspicions got worse when Fleur chuckled and bit her lip, seemingly not knowing what to say.

“ _Yes, the little death, darling_ -” Fleur said, and Hermione’s brain short-circuited as Fleur called her that. The French girl claimed it was what friends called each other sometimes but Hermione’s body shivered whenever she was called that by the blonde in ways that could not be attributed to a sudden cold breeze, which made it hard to associate the term with simple friendliness “ _It is- I believe where you come from they would use the term ‘What the birds and the bees do’_ ”

“What the birds and the bees do?” Hermione asked out loud in English, her face twisted in confusion that grew even worse when Fleur simply nodded with a cheeky grin that gave Hermione the impression that Fleur was pulling a prank on her.

And then it got out.

From the deepest, darkest pits of her mind a memory came. A memory Hermione had looked into eliminating from her mind but ultimately did not have the courage of doing the spell to herself. A memory of her parents sitting down with her and actually using birds and bees to explain… _that_.

“Bloody fucking hell!” Hermione shouted and immediately covered her mouth at the realization that she’d cursed out loud in front of who had to be one, if not, the most refined person in all three schools and it was time for Fleur to laugh like a maniac and fall to the ground laughing, twitching and going breathless while Hermione flustered and felt the night getting unbearably cold.

“ _My God_ -“ Fleur tried to say between laughing fits “ _Your face!_ ”

“Laugh it up, ya Frog” Hermione said sounding a lot like Ron, barely minding that Fleur was laughing at her given she was amused by this. And the fact that Fleur’s earnest laugh was just a beautiful as the rest of everything else that could be said, heard or seen of Fleur was an added bonus.

Fleur laughed for quite a while, her laughter echoing in the halls loudly and Hermione started giggling by the time Fleur’s attack was dying down. The Frenchwoman sat up properly and smiling looked at Hermione with an amused expression that could only be described as ‘ _Your poor, silly, innocent thing_ ’

“ _I’m dreadfully sorry, ‘ermione-_ ” Fleur spoke between little giggles that sounded like little, beautiful bells “ _I was not being mean, I just-_ ”

An unguarded laugh erupted from Fleur and Hermione wondered in her mind ‘ _How is this woman beautiful even while laughing? One of these days, it’ll turn out she looks like a goddess with bed head_ ’

“ _Shit_ -” Fleur said, a final loud giggle sounding and Hermione hated that hearing Fleur curse sounded so lovely and proper in French that if she didn’t know any better, Hermione could just add it to the list of incredibly polished and educated expressions Fleur had as part of her refined and proper upbringing as a French damsel of proper manners “ _’ermione, you truly are a witch. You vanished my-_ ”

Fleur caught herself and huffed, her smile becoming guarded and a bit hesitant; making Hermione curious and she stared at Fleur with an inquisitive gaze that simply asked ‘ _Please, do tell_ ’ and after several awkward moments of Fleur moving her mouth but not saying a word finally some words came out, the big smile on her face completely gone.

“ _I was-afraid_ ” Fleur clearly struggled with the last word, as if saying it made it true and made her less at the same time “ _I’m my school’s champion and it’s an honor but…_ ” Fleur trailed off, lost in thought and her gaze became lost and frightened to a degree “ _I could die_ ”

“I’m sure you-“ Hermione wanted to be the reassuring voice Fleur desperately needed, but how could she when she herself had been getting worried sick about that very possibility when this French Wonder Woman appeared before her.

Fleur looked into Hermione’s eyes and saw the same struggle she was suffering and reached out, placing a gentle hand on top of Hermione’s left hand, which was closest to the Beauxbatons student.

“ _I risk my life_ -” Fleur said lowly, more to herself than anything “ _You risk left being stranded with that imbecile redheaded disgusting beast. No wonder you people say they have no souls_ ”

“ _They have souls_ -” Hermione said, giggling and lighthearted “ _They get a freckle for each soul they steal_ ”

Both women laughed fondly and what heavy air had gotten in between them, whatever worries they had held that night was lost in the air as they simply laughed and shared jokes and little things that kept the conversation going and the fear at bay.

They talked well into the next morning, the suns first lights finding them in the common hall as the House Elves began placing the breakfast dishes on the large tables and Hermione found it quite interesting that she didn’t felt tired at all and that with Fleur she could be as chatty as she wanted and the woman would listen and share something too, the conversation never dying.

_They didn’t realize it but that night they had sheltered each other from their fears._


	4. Come Back to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the First Trial, Hermione and Fleur have a moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Posterity: I haven't updated since Chistmas Eve of 2018. Today, 31st of January of 2019, I retake the story and deeply apologize to my readers for the hiatus. I was stuck in a limbo of depression, unability to focus and too harsh self-criticism.

Fleur sat in the middle of the waiting tent with her eyes closed, controlling her breathing and inhaling slowly, as if trying to enjoy every last bit of some imaginary smell, and exhaling all the air in her lungs in one steady stream. Her brain immediately associated the steadiness of it with an image of Dragon Fire and the next breath Fleur took was uneasy as more images of heat, fire, growls and screams flooded her brain.

Fleur exhaled as if she was sobbing and a cold shiver ran rampant all over her body that forced her to open her eyes. She hadn’t slept well last night, the nervousness of the First Task keeping her up all night studying every last enchantment she could think of that might give her leverage over the beast she had to face.

“ _For a fucking egg-_ ” Fleur let out the profanity flawlessly and covered her mouth, lest she was overheard by the Headmistress or one of her fellow students. If she was going to die, she was going to die with pride and a flawless reputation as a prim, proper example of a Beaubaxtons student that faced death itself with elegance and grace.

An earnest smile spread across her face as the thought came to her that she feared being remembered poorly more than she feared dying in a stream of hellfire. She had never thought herself to be so vain, always hating the people that saw in her nothing than the beautiful blonde that had the Lure of The Veelas at her disposal to add to her already flawless looks and felt nothing but contempt for those who said it was the Lure what made her beautiful.

She knew her worth and had never put much of a thought on how she was seen or thought of but now…Now she was sitting alone, about to do something that had a good chance of killing her, and maybe she could spare herself the vanity of thinking what her funeral would look like.

‘ _If there’s anything left to bury_ ’ The thought came to her, almost as if spelled out in the air with magic in bright blue letters, in it’s terrifying glory and Fleur shook her head in denial, staring at the ground with her back hunched a bit, as she tried to talk herself out of the fear of dying.

“ _I am Fleur Delacour, Daughter of Apolline Delacour, Chieftain of Galia and fear has no hold of me-_ ” Fleur said to herself and rolled her shoulders, preparing to jump out and face this oversized lizard that breathed fire and ate ash “ _I am Fleur Isabelle Delacour, Granddaughter of Eugénie Delacour, The Blue-blooded, who beheaded Krastor Lerhamn and drowned his children in their father’s blood. Death fears my name, not the other way_ ”

Fleur started rocking and shivering where she sat, the tales of her ancestors as fresh in her mind as the day she had heard them for the first time, and felt an immense hate towards herself for being such a coward.

“ _I am Fleur Isabelle Delacour, the Blood of Alaric flows in me and I will not disgrace the memory of He who brought Rome to its knees by dying to this-this thing-_ ” Fleur started bouncing in her seat, more desperate and nervous than before and the thought came to her that maybe invoking her ancestry wasn’t that much of a good idea “ _I am Fleur Isabelle Delacour._ _Vercingetorix worshipped my family and I will be worthy of my bloodline_ ”

Fleur’s breath turned erratic and her whole body became a ball of energy and fire and Fleur exhaled. She couldn’t focus. She needed to focus. She needed to be centered and of sound mind. A dragon was no fickle thing and to come out this alive she would need her brain; she would need herself, not her long line of dead ancestors.

“ _So stupid of me!_ ” She chided herself for riling herself up “ _I need to be steady, not proud. I need to focus-focus-focus!_ ”

Fleur started huffing and remembered what she’d been told: Assess the terrain, move quickly, move erratically, be on your toes and remember the song. Put the dragon to sleep as quickly as you can. Run for the egg only if there’s a 100% of grabbing it unscathed.

Her eyes moved from side to side, getting ready to move as much as they needed and it was only the sight that her brain conjured that stopped her from jumping out of the tent uninstructed.

Before her appeared the white slabs of the Delacour mausoleum, the names of countless ancestors staring at her, the sun shined in the marble and blinded her, but even through it all she could see the names and dates of them all. Those that died of old age and those that had died at her age, those that had died in their prime and those that had lived too long and death had done them a favor when It took them.

She would die old and wrinkly and her beauty would be a rumor only confirmed by pictures of her younger self and in her eulogy everyone would be glad she was dead because that meant that she was terrorizing the afterlife. She’d be as respected as her grandmother and her name would be whispered by the Magical Creatures of the world with the same reverence and fear than Voldemort’s but without the dire connotations.

She’d be another Night Terror, like her Grandmother and Great-Great Grandmother. She would live to become that. _She would live_.

Fleur nodded and spat out a breath in a growl as she nodded, confident. She’d found her center and she was going to get the egg, earn her first bit of glory and move on to seek more glory until she was deemed fit to lead the Clans of Galia and her glory and that of her people became one. She’d prove to be as much of a Veela as any pure blooded one and she’d become the embodiment of the adage “The Blood Runs Deep in The Veins of The Great”

Fleur brought herself to sit still as she heard someone coming and took steady breaths as she braced for what was coming. She would be told it was her turn, she would go and she would get herself a golden egg.

This resolve was shattered and forgotten the moment the sound of the most marvelous voice in the world reached her ears.

“Fleur?” Hermione asked and Fleur’s neck snapped around fast, almost giving the French Witch whiplash. Hermione’s beautiful face stuck out of the slit that gave access to the tent and her mane looked just as lovely, though Hermione looked sickly pale and a stone dropped hard in Fleur’s stomach.

“ _Darling, are you alright?_ ” Fleur stood up and walked towards the English Witch and whatever mental preparation Fleur has achieved was lost. Whatever battle readiness she had was now a thing of the past as Fleur worried Hermione had risked her health to come and see her.

“ _Yes-_ ” Hermione looked down, as if embarrassed “ _Worried, but fine_ ”

“ _Worried?_ ” Fleur asked a bit incredulous “ _Darling, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Look at me, I’m the one who’s about to face a dragon and here you have me: Ready to go and… I believe the expression amongst Muggles is ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll?’_ ”

Hermione chuckled and smiled that beautiful smile of hers that was almost blinding, Fleur wishing to have the head of anyone who mocked it for two teeth that were a smidge bigger than usual “Something like that. _Yes_ ”

“ _Hermione-_ ” Fleur called as she saw the English Witch’s smile fade and her eyes roam the room, unsure of something “ _What’s wrong?_ ”

Hermione stepped forward and in a fluid motion wrapped her arms around the French girl and buried her head in Fleur's chest as she began to cry desperately.

"Ple-a-Please, Fleur-" Hermione whimpered "Come back to me. Come back safe. _Come back. Please_ "

Fleur's heart shattered within her chest and she wanted to leave the tournament and stay in the arms of this witch that had stolen her thoughts for a while now. She felt a cold pain in her chest as she pronounced the words she spoke next.

"I must do this, Hermione" Fleur's voice wavered for a moment as she remembered her English and she had to swallow a lump in her throat "I'll-I'll try my best but-"

Hermione sprang away from her chest at hearing the conditional and with glassy eyes repeated in a crying whisper "But?"

"It is ‘ude to make a girl a promise, if there's a chance I can't kip it" Fleur said that old motto her father had told her as she smiled half-heartedly and unwrapping the tight hug she was in, Fleur brought Hermione's hands to her lips, kissed the knuckles and pledged softly, her blue eyes adoring the honey ones in front of her "But I will do my best. _With some luck it'll be enough to face a dragon_ "

Hermione seemed a bit fazed by the change in languages, but ever her smart, beautiful self she understood both parts and swallowed, shedding the couple of tears that threatened to spill from her eyes and swipe them off her face and the two stood there, looking at each other in a marveled silence until Fleur broke the silence.

“ _Hermione-_ ” Fleur spoke up with a lightness to it that made all the difference to Hermione in ways that couldn’t be explained “ _I never thought I said this, but I think I finally saw that ugliness of yours everyone keeps saying you have-_ ” Hermione gasped and Fleur grabbed the Englishwoman by the shoulders as she continued “ _Because trust me when I say this: There is nothing uglier, more haunting and heart-shattering in the Muggle or Wizarding Worlds that the sight of you crying. Dementors have nothing on the look you have right now so-_ ” Fleur gently placed a finger beneath Hermione’s chin and relished on the feeling of the soft flesh as she made sure that Hermione looked her in the eye “ _Smile. Smile and let me see the sun, which lies behind your smile. I’m starting to forget how it looks like in this cloudly land you call Scotland. I think ‘Misty Land that Knows No Sun but The Sun of Hermione Granger’s Smile’ is a better name for it but, who am I to change history?_ ”

“That’s a long name, love” Hermione huffed between low chuckles of amusement and didn’t caught the small slip after endless days of being called darling by Fleur “ _And I’m not that important to have a country named after me_ ”

“ _A country?_ ” Fleur asked bemused, an eye brow shooting up in a crooked manner “ _The English call this their backyard. The Muggles named the police ‘Scotland Yard’ after all, did they not?_ ”

Hermione laughed, the sound of it entrancing Fleur as if she was with a Siren and Fleur’s brain agreed through the haze of its own bafflement that Hermione was as pretty as the legends of the Sirens (Sirens, Fleur knew from personal experience, did not lived up to the legends and were as sadistic as only women that drowned men to entertain themselves could be)

“ _That…That is not why it’s called Scotland Yard_ ” Hermione smiled, and had it not been because her eyes were red and her voice still frail, Fleur could’ve sworn this was their average conversation with laughs and tenderness and all the thing Fleur had grown to appreciate from interacting with Hermione.

“ _Makes no difference to me-_ ” Fleur said tenderly and her smile turned from assuring to fond as she kept speaking “ _This place is sad, grey and the only sun it ever sees shines whenever you smile, so, Hermione-Darling, smile and show me those beautiful pearls_ ”

“ _Seriously, Fleur-_ ” Hermione took a step back as she blushed and Fleur held a light chuckle at the sight of a flustered Hermione “ _You just say these things so effortlessly and I-_ ”

“ _The truth is the easiest thing to say in this world and one of the brightest objects known to anyone-_ ” Fleur bit her lip as she kept the onslaught of compliments flowing, her praises for the woman in front of her never stopping to come to her mind “ _That light in your eyes you get whenever you’re happy is the brightest_ ”

“ _Fleur-_ ” Hermione ran a hand over her forehead, smiling from ear to ear and Fleur felt that pang in her chest that spoke to her softly and begged to make a more serious pass at the Gryffindor student. Her mind, light and fuzzy with the sudden happiness of seeing Hermione and talking to her, paid little comment to such a wish, lest they scare the light out of her life by acting so stupidly. “ _I came here to-_ ”

“ _I know, darling_ ” Fleur said and it was as clear as day, really. Hermione had come to beg her to be careful, to be smart and to win and come back alive. “ _I’ll do my best to grant you your wish_ ”

“ _I would still like to say it-_ ” Hermione said as she brought her hands together in front of her and played with them nervously “ _Stay safe. Please, stay safe and come back in one piece so we can have those scones my mother sent_ ”

“ _I’ll do what I can, beautiful-_ ” Hermione needed friends that acknowledged her as the beautiful, smart, capable witch she was and Fleur had decided that she would be that friend. “ _I don’t know about this so called scone thing, but I trust your British tastes to make it a good companion of whatever tea we’ll be having after I come on top._ ”

Hermione laughed and the sweet sound of it had Fleur reminding herself she could not and would not make a pass at her friend just because she found her delightful from head to toe and from smile to frown. Hermione wasn’t in the habit of loving women and had confessed to crushes with some boys in her school and to the Durmstrang Champion.

Fleur had vowed to help Hermione past her insecurities and to turn her into the most formidable and incredible witch ever to exist. Hermione’s magical skills were worthy of awe but her insecurities made Fleur want to damn all the people who had put them in this world who had had a hand in putting them in the beautiful head of the British girl to the worst curses imaginable.

Fleur walked up to Hermione, closing the distance between them slowly and tenderly placed her hand in Hermione’s hair, admiring the softness of it. Bush-like as it looked, it was softer than anything Fleur had ever touched and it marveled her to no end how much of a disgrace it was that just because if how big it looked, everyone called it ugly. Fleur would kill for something this soft and she had to let Hermione know that it was just people being idiotic.

“ _So soft-_ ” Fleur finally said, as she always had whenever she got the chance to admire Hermione’s hair openly “ _It’s beautiful and is the crown jewel of your beauty, darling. Never let anyone make you think otherwise_ ”

If those were her last words to Hermione- ‘ _No_ ’ Fleur chastised herself as she lowered her hand and took a deep breath ‘ _I’ll return to her and she’ll hug me and I’ll melt in her arms just enough to say I enjoyed it as much as I could_ ’

Fleur looked at Hermione and her heart ached and her mind begged to steal a kiss, but she refused to such a thing. She would not ruin what they had because she was attracted to her in a way Hermione would never return. Victor Krum was a lucky bastard for having her heart and Fleur already had plans to get them to go together to the Yule Ball.

“ _Hermione-_ ” Fleur brought herself out of her adoration for the Englishwoman “ _You should go before Madame Maxime comes in and accuses you of interfering with my performance_ ”

“ _How could I do such a thing?_ ” Hermione asked puzzled but already without the sorrow and worry with which she had entered Fleur’s tent “ _We’re just friends_ ”

“ _Madame Maxime is convinced we’re little friends_ -” Fleur knew Hermione wasn’t that acquainted with relationship terms in French and threw that curve ball at her as a small way to cheer both of them up a little and leave all fear behind “ _And while I don’t mind that such a thing is thought of us, I don’t want you to risk fighting her. It would make the dragon sad if its performance was to be outshined by your fight with Madame Maxime_ ”

“ _Little Friends?”_ Hermione asked, squinting as she tried to process what she’d just been told and Fleur chuckled lightly and teasingly leaned into Hermione’s ear and whispered, cupping the Witch’s ear with a hand, Fleur ever having a preference for drama.

“ _Yes, darling-_ ” Fleur said lowly, perhaps too low of a tone and too much sultriness for this to be understood as nothing else than a joke “ _Little Friends that give each other the Little Death_ ”

“Fleur, you cunt!” Hermione exclaimed in surprise as the French girl made her fall for another bawdy joke and she quickly covered her mouth in astonishment “Oh, my God I’m so sorry, Fleur. _I’m terribly sorry_ ”

“ _No need to be-_ ” Fleur decided to keep the jest a little by adding “ _After all, don’t Muggles believe you are what you eat_ ”

Hermione went as red as the color of her School House and Fleur chuckled and bit her lower lip, knowing full well Hermione would catch the gesture in a desperate attempt to bring conversation out of anything.

“ _Think I’ll get to get myself some fine dining after this?_ ” Fleur asked with as much sexual charge as she could put into the question “ _That Ravenclaw Blonde looks delicious. Think you can make introductions?_ ”

“What blonde?” Hermione asked back in English and Fleur was actually surprised at the face Hermione was making. It wasn’t anger, nor was it annoyance. But it couldn’t be jealousy. After all, Hermione is straight.

“I’ll take that as a no” Fleur said in a normal, friendly tone and breaking her heart a little had to insist “ _Hermione, seriously, leave before you catch hell_ ”

Hermione huffed and quickly went in and hugged Fleur before parting with an easy grin on her face and said over her shoulder as she left the tent the total opposite of how she had entered it.

“ _Come back not burned to a crisp and I’ll see to it that you get with whatever-”_ Hermione froze just as she was about to make it to the slit in the tent’s walls “ _You like women? As in, you’re attracted to them romantically?_ ”

“ _Yes, Hermione-_ ” Fleur answered in a mockery of a deadpan before joking lightly “ _I like women and it’s actually a bit of a problem because I like them too much. The taste of them has nothing on your mother’s biscuits_ ”

Hermione’s jaw dropped to the floor as she processed this information and after a moment in which she slowly scanned Fleur with her eyes, she retorted “I’m going to go see how Harry’s doing. You come back safe and sound with that bloody egg and I’ll see to it you can tell me the how better Englishwomen taste when compared to French women”

Hermione chuckled awkwardly and left the tent, surprising Fleur with the bawdy joke; but after all it was how their relationship worked and no matter how much Fleur would’ve liked to have more, she could find solace in this kind of thing given she couldn’t have Hermione as her lover.

If only she knew that after visiting Harry, Hermione went to a secluded spot and almost missed Fleur’s turn because she almost had a panic attack at the confirmation that Fleur liked women. Her mind almost didn’t processed the fact that Fleur had her eye on a Ravenclaw girl but it stuck there and Hermione passed it off as teasing.

That remained so until later that night, when everyone was safe and sound and exhausted of celebrating and Hermione woke up in the middle of the night asking out loud to herself “It was teasing, right? She doesn’t actually like some mysterious Ravenclaw blonde”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support of this story! Let me know what you think of this chapter! Was it good? Is it clear that dialogue between them in Italic is in French and the parts that aren't are in English?


	5. The Moon That Guided To The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione questions her tastes, Luna gives her a nudge.

Hermione sat alone in the hallway of Hogwarts deep in thought, her eyes running from one side to the other of the imaginary board where she had written down the multiple points each of the sides of the inner debate she was having had going for them.

It looked so simple at first: After the First Test, with both Harry and Fleur safe and sound Hermione said to herself it would all go away, her fears of seeing her treasured friends dead would not happen but then she woke up in fear that night anyway. As if she had been the one that had faced the dragon.

And then doubt clouded her mind as Fleur’s last words echoed in her mind and woke up an unpleasant feeling that should not be there.

‘ _I like women and it’s actually a bit of a problem because I like them too much. The taste of them has nothing on your mother’s biscuits_ ’

The angelic voice of Fleur Delacour, which had become a regular inhabitant of Hermione’s mind, arouse so much in Hermione’s body. Things she had never felt, things that when asked to other girls, passing them as feelings for a boy from Slytherin, they all giggled and said she had a hopeless crush.

‘ _A crush_ ’ Hermione had incredulously thought to herself when she was told that she fancied the person that awoke the tingling in her spine after seeing them smile.

‘ _A crush_ ’ Hermione sneered at the ridiculousness that was that whenever they spoke, Hermione felt more cheerful and light than when she spoke to someone else.

‘ _A crush_?’ Hermione asked herself as she remembered her dreams, dreams of a golden curtain of her falling softly over her face, caressing her tenderly and making her shiver in this way that was simply what Fleur made her feel whenever they were close, perhaps too close. She’d never been that physically close when talking to Harry or Ron yet with Fleur it was a second nature.

‘ _A crush_ ’ Hermione admitted when she found the Ravenclaw Fleur had told her about at the tent and her blood boiled and her first thought once she knew who this blond girl was to help in the constant abuse and bullying she had to go through for being a tad odd.

Half of Beauxbatons was infatuated with her and how could they not? A lost stare that gave her an aura of mystery and aloofness; gold hair of a yellow that was hard to miss once you knew who she was and what to look for; blue eyes that captivated anyone and were second in beauty to Fleur’s own jewels that the word ‘eyes’ simply did not fit.

‘ _A crush_ ’ Hermione’s inner voice rasped gravely and her heart thundered at the thought she liked women, as the mere concept of kissing a girl made her feel things she had no name for. Kissing boys awoke nothing, but ever since she had started to entertain the thought of women her head became a fuzzy mess and her throat went dry.

Hermione imagined what it’d be like to kiss Fleur, to press lips and see if all that is said of kissing is true: If your soul leaves your body and you can’t function properly. That once done with the right person, you’ll crave them for the rest of your days.

‘ _A crush_ ’ Hermione whimpered internally as her eyes got full of tears and she felt like screaming until she lost her voice and the whole castle ran to her aid with wands raised, wondering what the problem was that had made Hermione scream bloody murder.

Fleur, if she wasn’t just joking back at the tent, had her eye on the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts. A girl that matched her own beauty and left Hermione as the girl with the messy hair and big teeth she was, leaving all kind words the Frenchwoman had ever said of the Gryffindor as just some little thing that Fleur just said without actually meaning it while she lavished in praises the girl she loved.

‘ _Luna Lovegood does not deserve her_ ’ Hermione found herself thinking and her mind, for one horrid moment, brought forth every little thing it could muster that could be of use to torment this girl that threatened to break her heart and steal her love away and Hermione realized that it was her who was not worthy of Fleur.

She could tell Luna was a one of the good ones, the ones that are nice and kind and everything nice, just like Fleur was once you got past the carefully built walls that were there to scare off those who judged a book by its cover. And Hermione, well, she had entertained how to get away with an Avada Kedavra; that’s how much she was not worthy of Fleur.

But maybe she was reading into things too much? Maybe the other girls had just been saying things to get to her because for reason Hermione had said Slytherin and not Hufflepuff. Maybe it was because it was her and not Cho Chang asking, or because the truth was more embarrassing than having a crush. Maybe it was just teenage hormones and magic not mixing well.

“But which is it?” Hermione whispered her mind so utterly in disarray that it had no space for the internal thought; being so busy with all the possibilities of what it could be. What the truth of the matter was, the actual fact that was hidden from her smarts by the accursed veil of not knowing what  _it_  was. Any of it.

Her eyes scanned the lists of possibilities and the points each possibility had for itself within the things she did know and became more and more desperate with each passing glance and each moment she thought and favored one over the other.

“I’ll lose my mind if I keep going over it like this” Hermione said to herself as she came to another whirlwind of messy, panicked thoughts of loosing what was never hers. An advocate of House Elf liberation so hell bent on calling Fleur ‘hers’ should be advocate of nothing.

“The mind is this funny thing-” A sweet voice answered what Hermione thought had been a sentence said mostly towards herself “We think it’s best to have it all as a whole, but it’s best when it has a hole through which we can see different things”

 Hermione turned her head towards the source of the pearl of wisdom and the white gold hair and beautiful skin did things to Hermione she’d rather not mention. Her eyes got teary and she thought to herself ‘ _Gods stand up for bastards after all, don’t they Edmund?_ ’

“Hello Luna-” Hermione welcomed the winter of her joy and felt herself ready to be dealt the most unkind cut of all, already thinking of what other Shakespearean quotations she could come up with before she flung herself from the Astronomy Tower “What brings you here?”

“The usual, someone hid my things, you?” Luna retorted in what had sounded like a long sentence as she walked closer to Hermione and the Gryffindor eyed the Ravenclaw with weariness and cursed her for being so beautiful and everything Hermione simply wasn’t that had drawn Fleur to her and from Hermione.

“I-I am questioning existence itself” Hermione said dryly but with a smile of irony in her face that probably looked like she felt: a numb wreck of a hollow person that is ready to just drop dead without complaining.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Luna retorted earnestly and Hermione did found it in herself to believe that Luna did such things based on what she’d heard of the girl that was now sitting next to her on the floor.

“Quite so-” Hermione answered barely caring about anything in that moment and the carelessness in which her mind was made her drop her thoughts bluntly “Especially when it turns out you’re a lezzie and your crush is also a lezzie but just not with you. It’s like trying to make your way through a thorny wood, making way and straying from the way, trying to catch the woman you love that is so close you could swear you could pluck her heart down but just…no”

“Fleur isn’t interested in you?” Luna asked nonchalantly and Hermione froze.

Had she actually come out to this woman she barely knew? This woman that was the source of what grieved her heart?

“Are you sure?” Luna asked puzzled and Hermione was just forlorn and decided to put it all out.

“Yes, she’s interested in you, actually” Hermione ripped the words from her throat and admitted this, deciding that she’d see her sun be happy and be the honorable one “She told me before the First Task and I promised her that I’d get her your name and house so she could court you in time for the Yule Ball”

“As much as I’m flattered, I’m not interested” Luna said and Hermione felt like ripping Luna’s head off from her shoulders. How dare she say ‘no’ to her Goddess? She was thinking of killing for that opportunity that Luna so easily said no to, as if just saying no to a biscuit “You know what they say about the French and the time of day”

Hermione looked at her would be enemy puzzled and confused asked “What do they say?”

“Depending on the time of day, the French go either way” Luna recited merrily and Hermione almost actually believed Luna thought it to be an accurate depiction of the French because Luna was not smiling at all as she said her most recent phrase.

“Do they now?” Hermione’s voice sounded so dry in her own ears she wondered if had been screaming recently and not noticed in her lamentations over this matter.

“Oh, yes. And it’s kind of a dead giveaway really-” Luna’s expressive face shone in the dim light of the foggy day and Hermione was getting a bit lost in the soft cheeks and lovely aura that emanated from the girl “I mean look at her coiffed and crispy locks, or their silk translucent socks. She’s not gay, just European”

“The-” Hermione’s brain lit up a red warning that screamed ‘ _DOES NOT COMPUTE_ ’ and for a moment she almost forgot to finish her sentence “The difference eludes me”

“You see, they bring people up different in those charming foreign ports-” Luna had a hint of a smile but she always seemed to have it as far as Hermione had noticed when she had looked into who exactly was her rival for Fleur’s affections “They play peculiar sports in shiny shirts and tiny shorts unlike here in jolly ol’ England where men are men and women are grateful for that”

“But what about the fact she’s touches every girl she meets while she can barely be bothered to shake hands with men?” Hermione’s brain started to go through the long list she once had made to determine if Fleur was actually into women “Or the fact that whenever she’s around girls she glows this aura of confidence and beauty that makes men and women try their best lines? Or the fact she runs her hands through my hair and calls it-”

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks as she realized she’d just included herself in the list and Luna’s eyebrows subtly raised as if saying ‘You finally realized?’

“There is also the option she’s both gay _and_ European-” Luna said while smiling coyly, and why wouldn’t she? She had just outsmarted the cleverest girl in Hogwarts “But only with certain people, namely people that she spends time with and lavishes with praises constantly; to the point it’s all anyone talks about in the four houses”

“What?” Hermione’s voice cracked and she almost squealed as she shouted at herself ‘ _How can I be so daft and not be dead?_ ’

“Well, that last bit is a personal invention but the rest is true-” Luna looked at Hermione, her big blue sapphires piercing through her mental chaos and nailing her to the present “However I came up-Whatever she said about me? She didn’t mean it. Anything she’s ever said to you couldn’t be more real than this castle or the feelings you have for her”

“Am I that oblivious?” Hermione asked more to herself than to Luna but Luna still answered with a cheeky smile and giggly nods of her head.

“Yes, you are. But so are most people-“Luna said calmly but truly and Hermione could tell even though this was the first time she’d ever spoken to Luna “It takes a special kind of observer to realize. I’ve got to keep my eyes peeled if I’m ever to find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, so it kind of jumped to me”

Hermione stood up as if she had grown springs on her backside and felt a surge of energy and asked joyously “So you’re saying I have a chance?”

“I’m saying you have every chance in the world-” Luna said a bit amused and then blushed as she said her next couple words “And if she doesn’t appreciate her opportunities…Well, I’m always interested in hearing more about your father fixing teeth by muggle means”

Hermione stood there frozen for a moment before blushing and saying “Thanks…I don’t know what to say, really”

“You’re flattered but not interested in an oddball such as me?” Luna suggested nonchalantly and Hermione shook her head no.

“You’re pretty…and have lovely hair…and eyes...and you’re not as weird as you think” Hermione said, trying not to give the wrong impression but also leaving that door open because she did mean it when she said Luna was very lovely and very pretty “But me and Fleur-”

“Go get her and if she’s as stupid as she doesn’t look the first ten butterbeers are on me-” Luna smiled gently, more calmly and stood up in a jump “Now excuse me, I need to find my shoes”

_Hermione ran off and barely paid attention to the fact she ran by said shoes on her way back to the Gryffindor Rooms and by a miracle she had the presence of mind to enchant them with an advanced spell so they’d make their way back to Luna._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this! I get really nervous about every update living up to the amazing support and love you guys have been giving me so far. Please let me know what you think of this one, even if you don't like it! Let's see if you find the references in this one! Hope you and let me know!
> 
> I would like to use this brief moment where everything's in English to adress the French situation (See what I did there?):
> 
> The first chapters are in Harry's POV, who doesn't know French and thus doesn't know what they're saying and I felt that it'd be better to have people not know what they're saying either.
> 
> The other chapters have been in Hermione's POV (as most chapters will be) who knows French, thus the reason why we know what they're saying. But they do switch between English and French so I went with the Italics for that effect, however, French dialogues will be coming back later on.
> 
> Hope you all keep reading despite of this creative choice.


	6. C'est Si Bon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fleur asks Hermione to the ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link takes to Youtube

The first thought that went through Erica’s mind when she heard that Hermione Granger had been sent to the infirmary on the account of a spell from Draco Malfoy was to try and remember a place, any place, where they could hide his body once Fleur was done with him.

Her second thought was to call him ‘Poor Bastard’ mentally and imagine the one million and one ways that Fleur was going to tear into him and leave him worse than any victim of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Her third thought was not hers but Brenda’s, reminding her he was essential for The Great Game, as much, if not more than Potter was. She huffed and sighed but Brenda moved her and told her she was to find Fleur and stop her from throwing a wrench into the perfectly laid plans of the Wulfen.

So, with a whispered ‘For Fuck’s Sake’ and an annoyed huff, Erica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Brenda took over and used the Winds of Magic to find Fleur and gave her back full control of her body once they saw Fleur was still in the carriage, her heart beat speeding up, most likely finding out as they saw her through the Winds.

Erica dashed off and ran as fast as Brenda considered proper that a human would’ve been able to run given the shape Erica goes by amongst them and Erica just got more annoyed as she, through Brenda, smelled the murder intent in the air the closer she got to Fleur.

Erica and Fleur clashed into each other and Fleur fell back on her ass with a grunt as she collided with the mountain that was Erica’s human shape. The Veela’s Spirit glowed in a breath-taking display of reds that spelled ‘Murder’ rather beautifully, but that was beyond the point and Erica couldn’t afford to look at it too much as Fleur got back on her feet with a spin that was clear display of Veela physical prowess.

“ _Fleur, you need to breathe_ ” Erica tried to calm Fleur as she tried to run past Erica with wand in hand. Erica blocked her path with an arm and a shove when Fleur tried to sneak under it, moving faster than humans were capable of. Moments like this were hard for Erica because Fleur barely had anything on her that gave away that she was Veela until she broke past the limitations of humans and did things that would normally make Brenda take over.

“ _You need to shut up and get out of my way!_ ” The Frenchwoman answered back with rage boiling in her everything-voice, Spirit, eyes- and Erica stared for a moment as Fleur’s eyes went emerald green.

‘ **I think she’s turning into my bussiness** ’ Brenda whispered and Erica twitched her mouth disapprovingly as she watched what Fleur did next: Stand there, her face twisted with rage as she gruffed and grunted as her rage grew stronger and stronger.

‘ _Nah, she’s just a drama queen. I’ve got this_ ’ Erica chortled as Brenda gave off a little laugh in agreement and then another one, a bit louder, in amusement as Fleur kept trying to intimidate Erica by staring at her and tried to hide the fact her hands had turned into Veela claws by putting them behind her.

“ _I’d be intimidated-_ ” Erica spoke up boastful as she smiled, her face having a bit of a sneer in the gesture “ _But that would require you to be…well, you know…intimidating_ ”

“ _Fuck you!_ ” Fleur swiped at Erica, who let a tiny laugh past her throat as she grabbed Fleur’s claw in the middle of the movement and saw the amusing thing that was Fleur’s face as she remembered that ‘ _Oh, yeah. She can do that_ ’

“ _Now listen to me, you overrated ostrich_ -” Erica deadpanned as she twisted Fleur’s arm and made the Frenchwoman yelp in a slight pain as Erica’s hold got stronger and felt almost bone-shattering “ _It wasn’t that bad: She just got beaver teeth, which mind you, a lot of people said she already had_ ”

Fleur twitched and tried to get off the hold Erica had her in, going as far as to try and kick Erica’s legs and dirtying her blue robes with the clear print of her shoes.

“ _You’re washing this, overfed Dodo-_ “Erica warned Fleur with irritation in her voice that made Fleur stop dead in her tracks and, for dramatic effect, Erica let her eyes shine a bit redder, letting enough Hellfire show in them that Fleur paled and took the next couple words that came out of Erica’s mouth more seriously “ _Now, go back to human hands or Brenda is taking over and you’ll be explaining to Madame Maxime why you shat and pissed yourself_ ”

Fleur’s hand started to revert immediately and a small, awkward silence took over them as Fleur’s claw became the beautiful porcelain hand that Erica was almost sure was going to end wrist-deep inside Hermione Granger. Erica took a moment to admire the manicure of the Veela and found it funny how much unlike the elegant, blunt nails were to the long, black claws she’d just tried to use against her.

“ _Now that you’re more calmed-_ ” Erica released Fleur’s arm as her eyes went back to the blue that had bewitched half of the school when her body hit adolescence and her pheromones spread throughout the whole school, making it reek with Fleur’s scent “ _We will go see your biscuit and do your idea. It’ll cheer her up and you might even get a kiss_ ”

“ _Remind me again why I even talk to you?_ ” Fleur asked with disdain as she rubbed her arm, trying to give herself some comfort after being under the crushing grip of Erica.

“ _Because Veela-you knows better than to not be in good graces with her masters and creators-_ ” Erica listed off in a sing song voice with no mockery behind it “ _And because you have a thing for entertaining me-Well, Brenda…you know how it is_ ”

“ _I truly do not, other than the fact that you’re a walking monster_ ” Fleur tried to glare daggers at Erica and only amused her further, the grin on the redhead spreading until it was almost an ear-to-ear one.

“ _Walking monster? You say walking monster?-_ ” Erica scoffed derisively, as if she couldn’t believe what she heard “ _You, my oversized, blue-feathered penguin, are the walking monster. I am simply…me_ ”

“ _Yes, you the Eldritch Abomination-_ ” Fleur retorted dismissively as she looked around and stared off into the distance, unable to see Erica’s eyes without shivers running up and down her spine “ _that spends more time with muggles than with Wizards_ ”

“ _They’re incredibly entertaining and actually quite inventive-_ ” Erica felt like defending her choices for a moment and her mouth spoke before she fully processed the thought “ _And remember you’re courting one with the hopes you can stick your-_ ”

“ _I will not hear such lewdness_ ” Fleur walked off and this made Erica finally break and laugh full heartedly, like if she’d been told a good joke; which irritated Fleur even further.

“ _That’s not the way to the infirmary-_ ” Erica warned between chuckles as Fleur took a wrong turn “ _Let me guide you. Consider it my payment for the lesbian activity I’m about to bear witness_ ”

Fleur smiled and answered back and Erica answered to that remark which in turn saw Fleur speaking another response that took them to the true spirit of their friendship: The endless, witful banter that was a breath of fresh air in the dull, stale conversations about boys, girls and fashion that was usual between students that were not like them.

When they arrived to the infirmary, the place was empty with the exception of the bushy hair that gave away one Hermione Granger. Erica snorted when she heard Fleur’s heart rate pick up and Fleur’s gait became more paused and mindful, trying to be as elegant as she could and even Brenda had to say it ‘ **Oh, I am so entertained already. And to think it’s barely starting** ’

Fleur walked in silence to Hermione, who had her back turned to them and her face in her hands, and cleared her throat as to not to spook her beloved “’ermione. How ag you, my dear?”

Hermione jolted as if she had been lightly shocked and with wide-doe eyes answered “I’m fine. _Good afternoon, Erica_ ”

“ _Good afternoon, Hermione_ ” Erica’s answer to the greeting boomed in the room and Erica felt a bit awkward about that, shrinking in her shoulders and lowering her voice until it was barely heard by the three of them Erica joked “ _Glad this Malfoy boy didn’t sent you to St. Mungo’s. Though war between the English and the French is long overdue, if you ask me._ ”

Erica eyed Fleur and Brenda had to intervene ‘ **As entertaining as it’d be to see Fleur raising the French War Banners, I’d prefer it if you didn’t gave the poor thing any ideas. She’s upset as is and I do not want to miss the opportunity to see them be gay because you felt like suggesting war was a good answer to slights to a Veela’s intended** ’

Fortunately nobody understood her joke or dismissed it as preposterous exaggeration (Erica felt Hermione didn’t understood and Fleur was calm enough not to actually consider the idea) and Erica decided to give her friend a cue “ _’ermione. Fleur had plans and I am here to see them through and amuse myself at her ideas_ ”

Hermione went pale and her eyes opened “ _ideas? What ideas?_ ”

“ _Hermione. I-you see…_ ” Fleur’s body went completely stiff, caught completely off guard by Erica’s straightforwardness and with much delight Brenda and Erica watched as Fleur fumbled over with her words like a stammer, much to the disbelief of a Hermione that lacked her big frontal teeth.

“ _You see, Hermione_ -” Erica decided to show some mercy towards the French woman, walked up to Hermione and knelt before the open-mouthed Englishwoman “ _Fleur_ _is a lesbian. And I don’t mean of the kind that cuts their hair short and are fancied by straights as the man in the relationship. She’s a lesbian of the kind that sings and dances and wants to make you forget your troubles and just see you feel good. As a matter of fact what she feels for you…well, it’s so good”_

There was an awkward silence as the three of them stood there waiting for something. Anything. What was supposed to happen next. And after nothing happened, Erica slowly turned toward Fleur and chastised her friend.

“ _Come on, Fleur!!_ ” Erica clapped her hands in a ‘spit-spot’ motion and practically yelled as she intoned the tune, repeating the title of the song "[C’est Si Bon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlImu4UuOvQ)"

“ _Ah-_ ” Fleur looked panicked and took a glance at either side in a moment of nervousness before starting to sing:

_It's so good, it's so good_

_To go anywhere_

‘ **There  we go, good ol’ gay** ’ Brenda spoke amused inside Erica’s head as Fleur shyly danced where she stood, taking small steps sideways as she sang with clear regret for having chosen this way to ask Hermione out to the Yule Ball.

_Arms intertwined_

_And singing songs_

‘ _Oh yeah, this here is the good, gay shit I volunteered to see in front row!_ ’ Erica thought to both herself and Brenda as she waved her wand and made sparkles appear to dance at the rhythm of the song as Fleur crooned.

_It's so good, oh, it's so good_

_To say sweet wor_ _ds_

_Sweet little nothings_

_The kind that say it all_

Fleur found her courage and actually threw a seductive glance at Hermione that made the bushy-haired girl blush and bite her lips, moved by the effort that Fleur had made.

_It's so good ... so good ... so good_

_Seeing our love-struck expression_

_The passers-by in the street envy us._

_It's so good,_

_To see shining in her eyes_

_A marvelous promise_

_That shivers up and down my spine._

‘ **SO. CUTE** ’ Brenda yelped like if she had seen the fluffiest puppy ever to exist ‘ **Can’t wait for their wedding!!** ’

‘ _I thought we’d agreed on not telling me the end of the stories!_ ’ Erica mentally chastised Brenda as she joined the little choreography Fleur had come up with that was taking to steps to the right and then two steps to the left while rocking her hips a little more than anything else ‘ _It’s upsetting enough that I know how I’ll die_ ’

_It's so good, oh, it's so good_

_These little sensations_

_And if we love each other_

_It's because it's so good, so good, so good_

Hermione started to cry as Fleur crooned and in the faces of all three of them there was nothing but happiness for this sweet little moment they were in.

_It's incredible what she has to seduce me with_

_And let’s not start with what I cannot mention_

“ _Really, Fleur?_ ” Erica said, barely containing a laugh as she interrupted her friend “ _You’re such a soft lesbian_ ”

Fleur simply threw Erica a deadly glare and continued singing the final part of the song.

_It's so good, oh, it's so good_

_When I hold her in my arms_

_And she tells me that all that_

_It's mine for good_

_It's so good, and if we love each other_

_No need to ask why_

_It's because it's so good, so good_

Fleur knelt and held Hermione’s hand while Erica had the sparkles alternate between the colors of the rainbow and a variety of pinks.

“ _Will you go to the Yule Ball with me, beauty?_ ” Fleur asked with such frailty in her voice that one could think she actually thought Hermione might say no.

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and Erica died a little on the inside from all the cuteness she’d just been witness to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how gay was this?
> 
> Hope you liked this homage to my ideas from 10 years ago or at least found Erica tolerable enough to read this chapter.
> 
> Please let me know if you checked out the song, or if you already knew it. Hope you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment! They're loved! If I may I'd like to ask a couple things from you, if it's not much of a bother:
> 
> 1) Should you happen to be a Stucky shipper, check out I_Am_Many's stories! Give them some love! If you happen to be into Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time, bloodylullabies has a story for you on AO3! Plus he writes on Fanfiction.net as well!
> 
> 2) Should you be into Sci-Fi, Lara Croft, AU's of the MCU with some elements of DC and Halo, looking to make me happy or just looking story to read on a downtime, please check out my story "War Tide".
> 
> Thank you!


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